Miracle
by Kageshi
Summary: Adopted from Aliengirlguy: In the heat of battle, Ratchet is badly injured. Just before he dies he meets a mysterious, green-eyed teenager, and things will never be the same for the two ever again. Slash.
1. Meeting

Summery: Adopted from Aliengirlguy: In the heat of battle, Ratchet is badly injured. Just before he dies he meets a mysterious, green-eyed teenager, and things will never be the same for the two ever again. Slash.

Rated: M.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Transformers, all belong to Hasbro, just borrowing for personal amusement, no money being made. Same goes for Harry Potter, it's the sole property of J.K Rowling also borrowing for personal amusement, no money being made.

Authors Note: This story is adopted from Aliengirlguy. It's sad to see another great author leave but I won't abondon this. I also don't have a Beta. This is a Harry Potter/Transformers crossover and my first public fanfiction. Harry will be about 15 to start.

Warnings: slightly bloody.

Miracle

Chapter 1: Battle in the Rain

The sky was a mass of seething grays and blacks as biting cool winds whipped around over head and down below, throwing curtains of pummeling ice cold rain into the faces of human soldiers and Autobots alike as the near dark of the late afternoon torrential downpour swirled around them as streaks of weapons fire and the crack of guns filled the storm pummeled grasslands around them.

Ratchet swore in Cybertronian and English as he shook off a small waterfall of water as he surveyed the battle scene. It had been 12 hours, Earth standered, since the three new arrivals to Earth, all Deceptecons, had crashed into the grass plains in Saskatchewan Canada, in another bloody country then the home base of NEST. It had been hard battle since their arrival. It was just fortunate that the decimated buildings around them were that of an abandoned ghost town so at least there weren't any civilians they needed to worry about.

Screams of soldiers filled Ratchets audios.

Bodies, blood and debris flew past his helm, the poor souls already dead.

Ratchet, with his team of human soldiers, along with Sideswipe and his newly arrived twin Sunstreaker, were battling with everything they had, but the three Deceptecons, Strika the indomitable General of destruction, Brawl, the Missile happy loudmouthed Artillery Gunner, was shouting gleeful insults at everyone as his missiles blew another crater were soldiers had been standing.

The twins were currently occupied with Thundercracker, the second of the seeker trine, dodging laser fire and shooting there own laser cannons while the blue jet dodged out of the way.

Ratchet was diving and weaving through all the weapons fire, both enemy and friendly as he gathered wounded soldiers and brought them to the relative safety of a sturdy old saw mill. Ratchet was tending to another solider, another face, another organic that was seeping blood from her nose and mouth as he attempted to stabilize her. He was so focused on his work that he didn't see Thundercraker's missile.

The impact was devastating.

He was sent flying into the air several feet from his patient who was most likely dead from the explosion and sent crashing into a dilapidated building. His back panels were nothing but a slagging ruin. He couldn't move. His internal diagnostics and self-repair systems had been to badly damaged. Ratchet lay there, struggling to remain online. The rain continued to pelt him. Everything seemed eerily silent. He knew that his audios must have been damaged which explained the quiet. The rain had, if possible, come down harder. His vision was beginning to blur…

He hurt, so much… The pain was overwhelming!

Ratchet could vaguely make out Sunstreaker's golden hyde taking down Brawl before they were swallowed from his sight by the storm. He cursed at his inability to move.

Then a fog seemed to build up, obscuring the rest of the fight, almost as if the weather were trying to mask the carnage around him in a silvery mist. By this point the rain had suddenly stopped.

Ratchet lost the energy to struggle, to even curse his lot. His vision was beginning to go. He could feel his spark slowing, then stuttering in his spark chamber.

Something moved before him, only a few feet from his face.

A slim human boy walked out of the mist that enshrouded the battlefield.

Ratchet could only stare, vaguely surprised.

He looked young, maybe 14 or 15 years old. His skin was pale; and hair was a wild mane of dark black that framed an almost fey like countenance, a lightening bolt scar was prominent on his forehead. He was dressed in a simple pair of ragged blue jeans and a to large grey t-shirt. It was a civilian.

He vaguely wondered were the pit the kid had come from, this was no place for a civilian!

He tried to tell him to run, to leave, that it was too dangerous, but his vocals didn't have enough energy.

The boy stopped only an inch from his face. Instead of looking frightened, which was the norm that he had come to expect from humans upon first encounters, he merely cocked his head curiously.

Ratchet couldn't help the pained keen that managed to finally rip from his vocals as his body spasmed in pain.

A light touch, so gentle he barely felt it. He focused his fading vision on the scruffy haired teen that was quietly patting the space between his optics.

Then he spoke softly.

"You're pretty beat up, but don't you worry, you just pass out now. I'll take care of you."

He wanted to mock this reassurance. What the pit could this small human male do? The last thing he saw was his large green eye's as darkness finally swallowed him whole.

Ooo ooo ooo

The next thing Ratchet became aware of was onlineing in his own Medbay, with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe grinning down at him.

"Hey Bigbot! The Hatchets online!" yelled Sunstreaker, making Ratchet groan as his apparently now fully functional audios were rudely assaulted.

Pushing the grinning twins away, the Medic sat up on one of his own berths.

Optimus stood in front of him. At a nod from their leader, the twins skedaddled out of the medbay, which was surprisingly empty.

He frowned, hadn't he just been in a devastating battle? Where were the wounded? How long had he been offline? As if reading his thoughts, Optimus placed a servo on Ratchets shoulder plate.

"You have been regenerating for the past 24 hours my friend," Optimus Prime explained, noting the confusion on his faceplates.

"You, and the human soldiers that were injured were found unconscious by those that were left from the fight after the twins managed to drive the three Deceptecons away."

Ratchet frowned in confusion.

"What do you mean 'were' injured?"

Ratchet then took real note of his condition. He should be much more damaged then this! But his fully functional internal diagnostics were telling him that he was indeed healthy, in fact he was healthier then before the battle!

He shook his head uncomprehendingly.

"This is insane. I don't understand...I can't be…I mean I was…"

"…Dieing?" Optimus supplied with a sigh.

"You are not the only one, a few of those who awoke a few hours ago claimed to have been in the same state before they all went dark. One solider even claims to have had both his legs crushed by Strika and yet, there is not a single scratch on him, let alone a broken bone, and Sideswipe saw you get hit in the back by Thundercraker's missile. It doesn't make sense," Optimus shook his head, "but however this happened, I am glad that I did not lose you my friend, and that the death count is significantly shorter then it could have been."

Ratchet was stunned to silence. The normally gruff medic had experienced a lot in his long lifetime, but something like this…it didn't seem possible!

Then a memory intruded on his thoughts.

The boy.

"Was there a civilian male amongst those pulled from the battle? He would have been young and smaller than Sam," Ratchet asked.

Optimus raised a brow ridge curiously and answered.

"No, there were only the soldiers and our own men. There was no evidence or sign of a civilian, why?"

Ratchet explained what had happened in those final moments of consciousness. When he was done, Optimus looked thoughtful.

"This boy," Optimus said thoughtfully, "might have escaped during the heat of the battle, it would have been easy enough to do with all the chaos as a cover. He has seen us, this is not good. We need to find this boy, perhaps he can shed light onto what has happened. However, I believe the Military should stay uninformed for the time being, old friend. We do not need unneccassary complications with finding this boy."

Ooo ooo ooo

Review Please


	2. Rest

Summery: Adopted from Aliengirlguy: In the heat of battle, Ratchet is badly injured. Just before he dies he meets a mysterious, green-eyed teenager, and things will never be the same for the two ever again. Slash.

Rated: M.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with transformers, all belong to Hasbro, just borrowing for personal amusement, no money being made. Same goes for Harry Potter, it's the sole property of J.K Rowling also borrowing for personal amusement, no money being made.

Authors Note: This story is adopted from Aliengirlguy. I'm glad I get to finish it. For now I'm sitting at home just typing becasue my foot is broken. So expect updates weekly. Also, It's my birthday today.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR REVIEWS AND SUPPORT!

Warnings: mild angst.

Miracle

Chapter 2: Natural Healer.

Poke.

Harry groaned as he rolled over.

Poke. Poke.

The dark haired teenager muttered wordlessly in his sleep, glowering even with his eyes closed at the irritation that was dragging him from the deep comfort of a rather good snooze.

Poke. Pause…

Harry was suddenly wide-awake as he blinked from his new position on the floor. He glared up at the two grinning red headed devils that stared down at him.

The 15 year old was not amused as he glared at the 17-year-old snickering twins.

"I'd say he's awake now my good Forge," mused one red head.

"Indeed my dear Gred," said the other, both smirking identically.

"Damned high strung idiots," was Harry's reply as he summarily reached up with surprising swiftness and grabbed a shirt collar in each hand, dragging the startled twins down to the floor with him as he used their sprawled bodies to push himself to his feet.

He trudged towards the bathroom as the twins laughed like hyenas from the floor.

Harry sat in the living room of the modest farmhouse that he had been living with the twins for the past two months since they had run from the Wizarding World since Harry had finished his fifth year. The twins had been always been there for him from the start of his first year.

They had been the ones to notice how little he ate, how much smaller he was then the other boys and even some girls his age. It was George who had spotted the scars on his back when Harry had thought himself alone in the change room after Quidditch practice.

It had taken the brothers startlingly gentle and infinite patience to get him to talk about his home life with the Dursley's. It was the twins who, despite their misgivings at keeping it secret, understood his distrust of adults after Dumbledore kept sending him back despite him coming out and admitting to the abuse to the headmaster and the end of his first year. They were the ones that helped him, secretly, when he returned every term with more scars to add to his growing life long collection.

It had been them that had been the first to find out that he was a Healer, and not just the regular medi-Witch or Wizard variety, oh no, He was what was referred to as a Natural Healer. It had been why he hadn't been able to curse Bellitrix after he chased her in a fit of rage after she had killed Sirius.

Despite that the Wizarding World called him their savior, in his eyes, the twins disserved that title, at least for him personally, more then he did.

A week into his stay with the Dursley's the twins had come to Number 4 Privet Dr, with them they had brought their wands and legal papers.

What they had found was a sobbing Harry, lying curled up in the closet under the stairs, nearly broken beyond life.

The twins' original plan was to discreetly adopt Harry as soon as they came of legal adult age, despite being only a couple of years older then him. The goblins rather liked the twins; they were sneaky and made other wizards lives miserable while also making a profit from it. The twins had leaded them to Bagman, who owed the goblin nation a hefty debt. The twins had used the profits from their burgeoning joke shop to hire a goblin lawyer to draw up airtight papers to adopt Harry quietly so as not to alert anyone to the imminent change in the Boy-Who-Lived's family status.

When the Goblins found out why the twins were so interested in such a responsibility as taking on the care of their most famous and wealthy client's, they had been all for going under Albus and the Ministry's noses. The Goblins cherished their young; to harm a child meant instant death in their society. They offered to take care of the matter personally; the twins said that they would consider it.

All it took was describing to the purple faced Vernon Dursley this very fact, and using some rather creative merchandise and wand waving to get the muggles to sign the papers that now made them the legal fathers of one Harry James Potter.

After that, they grabbed boy and apparated away, never to be seen again by his relitives.

Harry's ability to heal appeared the day of his sixteenth birthday. He had been in the twins flat in the downtown core of London while the twins arranged for their new home in America. He had been torn from his own recovery by the cries of countless people in pain, calling on his power, dragging him into the streets.

It was a private Hospital across from the apartment building that was his first stop, and nearly his last.

The Papers called it a miracle, an entire hospital full of healthy patients. Nobody knew how it had happened, since Harry had presence of mind to toss on his invisibility cloak before he became over whelmed.

Unfortunately, a few of the patients remembered the feel of hands upon them as they were healed. One child had actually managed to see his face when he had nearly passed out in her room, accidently revealing it when the cloak had brushed off his head.

The twins came home to an empty apartment with the entire area teeming with Aurors obliviating whoever they could and excited muggles. Fortunately, they had placed a tracing spell on Harry and they found their new ward, unconscious in the parking lot between a Toyota and a black and white car, still under the invisibility cloak.

They left for the states soon after.

The twins were shocked at what Harry told them about what happened.

This, more then anything, convinced them that it was a good idea that they lay low for a while. Harry being a Natural Healer, a very powerful one at that, was an extremely rare thing in the world.

Natural Healers were not just rare, but they were considered sacred to their people. To harm a Healer was to harm your self. Healers were considered neutral. They were grey creatures that were given way and not impeded or forced into doing what they do. They answered to the call of their own magic and path. No one, not even the Dark Lord himself, would dare harm one such as Harry if the man found out what the teen was.

Before they had disappeared, the twins had made sure to send a missive to both sides, and the Wizarding newspapers and magazines that their savior was, in fact, a Natural Healer, and was to be left alone should any encounter him.

The three had not stayed long enough to find out what happened.

They had settled down in an out of the way rural farm in the states out side of a small town called Tranquility. They were far enough out of range that Harry didn't have to worry about being drawn to others pain, beyond the possible occasional neighbor who could be easily obliviated.

At least, they had thought they were out of the way, until 3 days ago when Harry had suddenly ran out of the farm house and apparated away with out a word of explanation to the shocked twins who had been in the middle of filling out online prank orders.

When Harry returned, the twins thought that it was lucky that the boy hadn't splinched himself in his exhausted state, they were both grateful that their little brother was a natural apparator as well.

They had left him alone on his favorite pile of pillows and blankets that he preferred to the actual bed in his bedroom until they decided to wake him up. They had allowed him to rest as long as his body required. They needed details of his latest escapade in case a few rounds of Oblivation was needed.

Harry had slept the rest of the time, his magical core rejuvenating.

The twins had been disquieted by his blood-trenched appearance, along with an odd glowing pink liquid that they had yet to identify when they cleaned up the unconscious boy after his return.

The twins stood in the living room were they had retired to wait for Harry to properly wake up. Harry stumbled into the room, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he slumped onto the couch.

Fred and George sat on either side of him.

The raven-haired boy just suddenly burst into tears, gone was his teasing from earlier.

"Why?" he choked as the twins wrapped their arms around the fragile teen as he sobbed into George's chest.

Harry told the twins about awakening to the feel of someone's pain drawing on his magical core. It was different then anyone else's pain. This one was of some one dying who watched others die, and was helpless to help them. It was the pain of another healer. Not one like Harry, the boy explained, but one all the same.

He described the battle he stumbled into, the bloody bodies, having to re-grow limbs or encourage a punctured organ to full health. He described the strange metal giants; beings that were much like those that were rumored to be an elaborate hoax, as claimed by the American governmentthat, had been mentioned on the muggle telly. They had heard mention of it in the pub in Tranquility once when George was checking out the local shopping and got peckish.

Harry described how he had healed the one who had called him, one of the giant metal creatures.

Harry had always been sensitive to battle, both as a warrior, a victim, and now as a Healer. All he wanted to do was live a quiet life out of the spot light, just be at peace. He thought that he would get his chance by hiding in the muggle world with the twins, but it seemed he was destined to be drawn into a war whether he liked it or not.

He cried for along time, and all the twins could do was hold him.

Ooo ooo ooo

Ratchet gasped through his vents as he sat up abruptly in his private quarters that were neighbor to the medical bay. He pressed a servo to his trembling spark.

The last traces of sorrow and despair left his processor as he took carful intakes of air through his vents, trying to calm his systems.

In his mind he could not get the sight of large green eyes filled with tears out of his processor.

Ooo ooo ooo

Review please


	3. Seeker's Wing

Summery: Adopted from Aliengirlguy: In the heat of battle, Ratchet is badly injured. Just before he dies he meets a mysterious, green-eyed teenager, and things will never be the same for the two ever again. slash.

Rated: M.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with transformers, all belong to Hasbro, just borrowing for personal amusement, no money being made. Same goes for Harry Potter, it's the sole property of J.K Rowling also borrowing for personal amusement, no money being made.

Authors Note: Thank you so much with the 25 reviews from people. The wizard's world will be brought in much later chapters because Voldemort can't leave Harry alone. There will be more than the Earth bound transformers in future chapters. You will have to guess who. I update weekly on tuesdays or wednsdays this keeps me from being swamped with writting and studies.

Pairings so far:

HP/Ratchet

Starscream/Skywarp/Thundercracker

Warnings: none.

Miracle

Chapter 3: A Seekers First Meeting.

Harry sighed as he swayed gently on the porch seat.

It had been a month since his encounter with his first real evidence that the universe was just as broader in weirdness and wonder as he had experienced on Earth so far since his exposure to the Wizarding World.

He had not talked about what happened precisely with the alien metal giant since he had broken down in his twins arms. it was enough that harry had encountered aliens, they didn't need to know that this healing had not gone like the others and was still affecting him.

Harry had not ventured passed the farm grounds and had avoided going into town.

He knew that the twins were worried about his solitariness, but Harry hadn't dared tell them that this was more then having a reaction to the violence he had witnessed, and the amount of power that he had used to heal all those soldiers.

He knew if he told them that something more had happened that fateful day in the stormy battlefield, something that was continuing to happen to him, they would most likely freak out and either take him out of hiding to the first wizard hospital that they could find, or go after the unsuspecting mech that Harry had healed and drag the poor being into this mess.

Harry cringed at the idea of returning to the Wizarding World.

He loved the normalcy and ambiguity that the muggle world offered, particularly with the added distance of an ocean between him and the Brittish Ministry of Magic. He did not want to ruin that because the twins had an overprotective moment.

He also did not want to drag Ratchet into his messed up life, or himself into another war.

His kind already had enough problems without Harry drawing the Wizarding Worlds attention to the existence of giant robotic aliens.

Harry sighed sadly.

At least, he contented himself with the thought, Voldemort had been defeated.

Soon after he and the twins had moved to the farm, word had reached them through the twins contacts that Severus Snape had mange dot poision the dark lord.

According to the report, it had been gruesome and messy, though it was still unknown what had possessed Severus to do it, and how he had managed to drick the Dark Lord into drinking it, or what precisely the poision was.

Severus Snape, new Saviour of the Wizarding World was not talking.

He closed his eyes as another wave of memories filled his mind. Memories of pain, and ultimately death.

Centuries of death, centuries of pain.

Memories that where not his own.

Harry rubbed his temples, waiting out the memories patiently, fighting the tears.

Yes, more had happened, and was still happening.

Harry's mind finally cleared and he looked down at the sketchpad in his hands.

An image was there; drawn in charcoal of a rather regal being similar, at least in species, to the lime yellow robot he had healed, with the same glowing optics.

This one had a battle mask over the lower half of his face, and he had flame-like markings on his chaise. Despite the lack of color, he knew instinctively that he would be red and blue, a rather bold, but pleasing color mixture.

Below the picture was a symbol, a language that was not exactly from Earth, just like the subject of the picture.

Great, just what he needed, another language in his brain that wasn't learned, and he had just come to terms with being a Parcelmouth.

Harry closed the sketchbook with a snap. He glared at the beautiful sunset and rolling fields of green before him.

He was bloody tired of hiding!

Damn it!

The sudden need to get out, get away from it all filled him. It also didn't escape his notice that he wanted to escape from the place he had escaped to originally avoid the problems of being the bloody boy-who-lived either.

He grabbed the backpack that Fred had given him for his birthday, shoving his sketchpad inside.

He was going stir crazy, and wanted to do something!

Then a rather crazy, but brilliant solution came to him.

He ran inside, tore open the foyer closet, and pulled out his trust firebolt. The golden varnish of the oak handles gleaming invitingly in the sunlight.

The twins, growing spectacularly into parenthood since adopting Harry, discouraged his flying outside the concealing wards of the farm, but Harry was feeling a streak of nervous energy that could not be satisfied by aimless aerial theatrics in the same confined space.

Decision made, he jumped off the veranda, grabbing air as he zoomed into the sky at breakneck speeds, and was soon lost to the clouds.

He let out a whoop, enjoying the feeling of wind whipping his cloths back, making his skin tingle, his eyes nearly watering.

He loved this!

He knew, if there was someway that he could spend eternity just flying through endless clouds, he would.

He wondered if maybe this was what heaven was like? If it was, then he never had to worry about death, because he would be right at home.

He was so over come with the freeing sensation, that he didn't realize he had flown for quite some distance, until he was brought out of it rudely by a booming, slightly high pitched voice directly in front of him.

His eyes snapped open.

There, eyes to optics was a rather stunned looking jet winged giant metal alien, it was silver, with tattoos all over his hull that reminded him of the symbold he had been doodling, and a strip of red on the edges of his wings.

Bright green met glowing red.

'Good feeling gone,' Harry mentally sighed.

His broom backed up slightly, in response ot his caution, but he didn't retreat.

Suddenly, a name and information popped into his head.

Starscream, third in command under Megatron of the Deceptecons, leader of the Seekers, an ariel variety of Cybertronian, dependent on the ability to fly, characterized by wings, hind like legs, and aerial alts solely.

Unbeknownst to Harry, his eyes had begun to glow with emerald light, swirling in the boundaries of the iris, nearly swallowing the pupil as the information filled his brain.

With tremendous mental effort, he tore himself away from the latest addition to his psyche, and his eyes stopped glowing, again unknowingly.

"well this is unexpected," Harry said finally outloud.

Ooo ooo ooo

Starscream couldn't believe what he was seeing.

A human, a flesh bag insect, was just…hovering in front of his optics, flying on something that by all rules of science and reality shouldn't be capable of flight, and was mainly used as a tool for cleaning homes, according to the internet.

The boy's eyes had glowed!

But that had to be a trick of the light…

Which had set ages ago, leaving the area suffused in the silvery glow of the full moon.

"Well, this is unexpected." The boy stated finally, in a soft tenor.

"Stating the obvious insect," the seeker snapped back in reply, then, "explain this to me, before I disintegrate you where you hover."

The boy cocked his head thoughtfully, not looking the least perturbed by the life threatening giant alien before him.

"I suppose that this must be a little weird, considering you're a scientist, and comprised entirely of technology. Wish I could explain, but the thing is, I'm not allowed to tell," he gave an amused twist of lips at that, "besides, killing me, would just ensure your immediate demise, trust me on this, alien or not, it's part of what I am."

Starscream processed that for a moment, mentally chewing on the implications.

From what he had gleaned, the boy was quite serious in what he was saying. His scans only showed him an ordinary human sitting on an ordinary, though somewhat streamlined broom, speaking truthfully. He determined that whatever was going on, could not be scanned by anything in his arsenal, and his where only matched by Ratchet.

Also, from the words, it implied that whatever…this was, he was not alone, implying rules, a social structure of more then one person with it, something not known, and most likely secret from the rest of the humans, due to the lack of information.

There was also the fact that the Autobots where probably unaware that there where humans flying around on broomsticks as well, or he would have seen evidence of it in his spying.

He also determined that he would not be able to threaten the information out of the boy, since there was something in his tone that implied warning, and absolute seriousness about it killing him if he offlined the insect. There was also a relaxed air about it to that implied that the boy believed this fact.

Interesting. Very interesting. He was intrigued, and his processor demanded further study on this marvelous new mystery that had presented itself.

Starscream had been getting quite frustrated, and board with the war lately, which was why he volunteered for more and more patrols. Whatever this mystery was, he was, it would, at the very least, release his boredom.

He would keep this to himself for now as well, chances where that the idiot Megatron would just swat the human out of the sky, and there would go his relief from boredom, even if it would potentially offline Megatron as the boy claimed. He would withhold his opinion on that likely hood until he observed the youngling to see if it was actually true, or just the young thinking they where untouchable.

"Very well, human…" Starscream stated finally.

"Harry," the boy corrected.

"…Harry," Starscream corrected, "I will not reveal our encounter to my fellows, nor will I kill you, but I find myself intrigued. You are obviously not fearful of my presence, so I believe it would be…beneficial for the both of us if we meet again?"

Harry considered the request.

He knew if his over protective twins knew about this, they would not be pleased about him keeping it secret, but as much as he had come to love his new family, he felt lonely being so isolated, especially since the twins had acquired that shop in town, and there going out to learn more about the muggle world in general, leaving him behind, unable to follow do to his ability.

Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to be able to talk with someone, it would certainly ease his loneliness.

"Alright, I guess that's okay, where do you want to meet?" Harry asked.

Starscream scanned the area around them until he spotted a likely place.

"There is an abandoned airfield a mile to the west directly below us, would that suffice?"

Harry nodded, it sounded nice and out of the way, and not close to any populations.

"Sure, that's fine."

The two parted with a promise to meet the following Friday, 5 days from now.

Ooo ooo ooo

As Starscream retuned to base and settled into his bunk in his quarters, sandwitched between his two trine mates, Skywarp and Thundercracker, he again replayed the image of the boy he had met. That calm sad face, those large green eyes that had glowed for a moment, as if they where more optic then eye.

He wondered how the boy knew he was a scientist.

He briefly wondered if the boy had been exposed to a shard of the Allspark?

He supposed that it wasn't to unlikely that both sides had missed a piece 4 years ago, but he had observed the Witwicky boy and had not seen physical manifestations of anything remotely close to cybertronian.

Finally he decided that it must have been a trick of the light, and a good guess on the boy's part, considering he was made of technology after all, it wouldn't be a hard assumption to make.

No, he would study this human, find out his secrets, and then when he was done, he would decide what to do from there.

He settled in between his two trine mates more comfortably and went into a blissful recharge.

Ooo ooo ooo

a/n: Read my previous author's note and cookies to who can guess right.


	4. From the Cauldron into the Fire

Summery: Adopted from Aliengirlguy: In the heat of battle, Ratchet is badly injured. Just before he dies he meets a mysterious, green-eyed teenager, and things will never be the same for the two ever again. slash.

Rated: M.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with transformers, all belong to Hasbro, just borrowing for personal amusement, no money being made. Same goes for Harry Potter, it's the sole property of J.K Rowling also borrowing for personal amusement, no money being made.

Authors Note: This story is adopted from Aliengirlguy. Sorry about the spelling last chapter. I'll try to do better but I don't have a beta. This is going to be the last of Aliengirlguy's original chapters. So next chapter there will be writing differences and some smut.

Pairings so far:

HP/Ratchet

Starscream/Skywarp/Thundercracker

Warnings: none.

Miracle

Chapter 4: From the Cauldron into the Fire.

A few weeks flew by since Harry had encountered Starscream.

Since that time, Harry had gone out for flights outside the farm when the twins left for work. He didn't want to worry them, and had still kept the secret of his attempts at rendezvousing with the mech.

Attempts being the operative word.

He had not seen the mech since that time, having not appeared that promised Friday, or two others since, and Harry had to admit to feeling saddened at the thought that the mech had changed his mind. He still tried though, despite the growing feeling that this was probably the truth.

It was as he was flying back home after another failed wait, that a burning sensation erupted in his chest.

He let out a gasp, clutching at the pained area.

His vision suddenly filled with images, fragmented, of another battle, a Decpetcon, Soundwave, yes, that was the designation, standing over him after just having punched him in the chest plates, denting the vulnerable area over his spark chamber, he raised his fist over his head to deliver the crushing blow onto his cranial.

He reacted as he would with any death eater about to curse him and he without his wand.

With instincts born of one who had been on the receiving end of violence since he was old enough to walk, only this time, he was not so helpless. He lifted his legs and caught the handle of the mace, twisting it away from him, and sending it away with a toss.

He didn't take the time to register the surprise on his enemy's faceplates, as he crouched into a defensive position.

The mech seemed to recover himself, and lunged again.

Harry used his enemies' momentum and grabbed an arm, using the force behind the charge to send the communications officer flying over his head and several feet into the distance.

Then there was a sickening lurch, a sense, for a moment, as if he was of two minds inhabiting one body, both feeling fear and confusion.

Wand?...Death Eaters? What the slag were those?

No! No more war…no more pain…please!

Darkness swallowed him away.

As Harry's body fell, he didn't notice being caught by a pair of servos just before he would have crashed into the ground.

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When Harry regained consciousness, the first thing he became aware of was a constant, though strangely comforting thrumming noise.

It was subtle, yet all around him.

The next thing he became aware of was warmth. It was almost like he was incased in an upholstered dry and firm womb.

Finally, he fluttered open his eyes.

He groaned, his head felt like he had done a few rounds with the Whomping Willow and lost. Finally, when he was sure that his head was not going to fall off, he opened his eyes all the way.

He blinked, and went to check to see if he was wearing his glasses, only to remember that the twins had taken him to a discreet optic-wizard in Knockturn alley before leaving the Wizarding World to have his eyes fixed as a birthday present. That meant that what he was seeing was indeed accurate.

He rubbed his temples. It appeared that lady fate really did have a skewed sense of humor, and Harry was the continual aft…no, butt, yes, butt of the joke.

He was in some sort of enclosure, his back resting against a carapace only slightly longer then his own body. The space its self was only wide enough for Harry to roll over, as he inwardly marveled at the soft vinyl-like interior interspersed with the occasional bit of alien tech, that the part of Harry's mind registered as power supply nodes, secondary and primary energon lines, and a few bits and bobs that were a result of the Seeker's earth based alt form in bipedal mode. The thrumming he had heard was the sound of the Seeker's, for obviously it was so, spark which was located protectively behind a secondary section of plating and hatches to protect it from the constant shifting in atmospheres, speeds, and gravitational pulls. Harry also knew that this particular breed of Cybertronian often carried their sparklings, much like Earths kangaroo's in the carapace, close to energon umbilical feeding lines and for protection until they developed enough plating to safely traverse the same conditions as their creators.

Harry shook the clinical observation from his mind, somewhat bemused that the seeker had shoved him in such a space, considering his attitude in regards to measly organics.

Luckily, his broom was lodged beside him, and he grasped it, feeling the comforting tingle and hum of the brooms magic under his fingers.

It was a trial, but he managed to remove himself and his broom from inside the seeker. Luckily for Harry, his host was apparently a deep recharger, so was not bothered when harry left his person.

Harry took off from the chest plates and hovered over the Seeker, or in this case, Seekers, three of them. His new mental acquirements informed him that the three were a Trine, a mated threesome. Thundercracker (whose missile had lead Harry into this mess), Skywarp, and Starscream, whom he had been squashed into, were curled up together like a pile of slumbering kittens.

Big, death dealing, metal ones anyway.

Harry rubbed his face tiredly as he took in the stark metal quarters.

From the cauldron into the fire, yep, that was his life in a nutshell.

He wanted very much to get himself out of here, find a dark place somewhere, and hole up to gibber like an idiot.

What had happened to him? For a moment he hadn't just retained the memories of Ratchet, he had been Ratchet!

His brain felt like it was filled with the buzzing of thousands of angry bees. Starscream must have finally made the rendezvous in time to witness Harry's fall. Though why he rescued him, Harry suspected was more for ulterior motives than benign ones. Despite the fact that he had only known the mech briefly, he knew enough through both that one meeting, and Ratchets memories to gauge the seekers personality, which would translate as the ultimate Slytherin.

He knew that the only reason he was alive right now was because the Con was curious about him or thought he could be useful some how, or both.

None of his frantic thoughts about what lead him to his latest predicament mattered though, at the moment, his own innate Slytherin half, the bit that housed his survival instincts, and sounded suspiciously like Snape, told him to worry about all that later. What mattered right now was getting off the Decepticon base. Unfortunately, Ratchet's memories didn't contain any useful information in that regards. The Decepticon had been very careful about keeping the information under wraps. However, he did contain the Cybertronian knowledge of working through the base's alien tech.

He grimaced as he eyed the keypad. The fact that the buttons were the size of his head or bigger, just brought home how very out of his element he was with all this, memories or not.

Balancing carefully, Harry kicked at the buttons; using the standard medic access code that ratchet and other medics were wired into their programming. It was a code that could access any quarters of any mech, special override in case of emergencies. The only reason it had yet to be taken advantage of in the war was a programming fail-safe that was downloaded into the medic's processors once obtaining medic status. The Fail Safe kept the information from falling into the hands of those that would take advantage of it, thus it was not mentioned out of medic circles, and also kept the medics from taking advantage of the codes themselves.

Fortunately, Harry was not encumbered by the restrictions, and his Sytherin half quickly overruled his overly honorable Gryffindor tendencies. He thought, a little sadly, at what Hermione might say if she knew…

He sighed, again turning his mind to the important matter of escape, he would dwell later.

The door slid open silently, and slid closed again behind Harry's retreating form.

Harry hovered in the large (to him) hallway.

It was as he suspected, maze-like and not much to distinguish one hallway from another.

Unlike humans, Cybertronians had computer-like memories and guidance systems so signs were not really needed.

After countless and fruitless flying around the base, narrowly avoiding the few Decepticons on the base up and about, Harry glared at what he swore was the same hatch, only different by the slight nick halfway from the top, but then again, the place wasn't exactly pristine.

Rather frustrated, he took out his wand, glad that the twins had given him a wrist sheath holster instead of him having it in his back pocket.

He hadn't wanted to risk using magic, being underage, but he figured in this case, he would have to take the risk, as long as he kept it small.

"Point me exit" Harry tried, figuring he would try the most obvious.

Harry let out a relieved breath when the wand pointed to a fork up ahead, pointing left.

He followed the wands directions for the next five minutes, sticking to the ceiling as far as he could to avoid being spotted.

Finally, the endless passages tapered off into a single larger one, then opened further into something that looked like a throne room.

It was there Harry spotted the giant throne, currently empty, and three hatches.

The hovering wand over his hand pointed to the centre hatch, heating up to indicate he was within reach of what he was looking for.

Harry smiled; he had found what he was looking for…

Suddenly, Harry nearly fell off his broom again, groaning in pain and glad for the fact that it was empty in the throne room.

He gripped the handle of his broom as waves of pain and misery washed over his body.

He cursed the unpredictable nature of his healer abilities, though given the nature of the Decepticons, he should have known that this would happen at some point.

He found his body turning to the right hatch. He gritted his teeth against the whimper that nearly escaped him. The pull on his power was strong, very strong. The suffering behind that right door was unbearable.

He paused, turning his eyes to the center door for a moment, but knew, instinctively, that he would not be leaving just yet.

Using the medic code again, the hatch slid open.

Inside was dark, and the moist dankness did nothing to take out the obvious surety of what he was seeing. He also didn't need Ratchets memories to recognize a dungeon when he saw one, or detention sector as the Cybertronians would call it.

There was a long row of empty cages awaiting prisoners, but it was the last cage at the end of the row that caught his attention.

Through the glowing energon bars was a Decepticon, or at least, a vague resemblance of one.

He was mangled nearly beyond recognition, and it took Ratchets memories a second to identify the mech.

Barricade, Decepticon scout, similar in status as Bumblebee from the Autobots, the second-last sparkling born before the Allspark was jettisoned, making the species sterile in the process. He had been believed to be still missing since just before the episode in Mission city.

'Apparently not missing for long,' Harry thought sadly, 'Megatron and his minions really did a number on him.'

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Barricade wondered if he had finally lost what little sane processing he had when his barely functioning, and remaining, red optic flared to life revealing the presence not of Megatron come to torture him again for his going AWOL. No, it was a tiny fleshbag floating on a stick staring directly at him and glowing like he had bathed in energon.

Glowing green eyes meant his with gentleness and determination then moved forward.

He knew he must be hallucinating, a glitch in his visual scanners or something as he watched the human float serenely right through the energon bars as if the licks of energy meant nothing, the sparks bouncing off some sort of barrier around his body. The boy soon hovered in front of his faceplates.

"Poor guy, you are messed, that's for sure. Tell you what, I have a proposition for you, though I know you'll likely not like it or just promise and then abandon me, but I have no choice." a deep breath, " if I made you well, and whole, would you take me out of the base when you escape? I…wont be much trouble, after I am done, I won't be able to do much of anything for a bit…anyway, deal?"

Barricade gave a broken trill, his vocalizer damaged from his screams of agony long ago. Why not? If he was becoming permanently glitched, then why not play along with the false, and insane, hope before him? He nodded painfully.

The boy smiled, a first in Barricades experience when face to face with one of the meat bags, even if it was a hallucination.

"Just relax," the boy said softly as small glowing hand that intensified into balls of golden light, like two small suns reached towards his chest plate, "this wont hurt a bit."

Barricades last moment was of optic blinding golden white light, intense, nearly unbearable warmth, and an odd sense of belonging, as imaginary arms wrapped around him, holding him close in comfort, before darkness took his awareness.

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A/n: Review and let me know what you think.


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